


make a boy cry

by cabriesun



Series: take a picture, it'll last longer [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Lance (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Random & Short, Short & Sweet, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-03-30 21:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19035766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabriesun/pseuds/cabriesun
Summary: Lance and Shiro sit beside each other in history. They haven't spoken much outside of class, but Lance suddenly misses a full week of school and Shiro finds himself inexplicably distraught. He reaches out to Hunk, offering to give Lance the work he's missed and is surprised to find out he's in the hospital.Shiro decides it's a good time to panic once he hears the news.





	make a boy cry

**Author's Note:**

> i'm...back?  
> this is my attempt to get back into the writing community
> 
> (i missed you guys ;-;)
> 
> cass and nat gave me this prompt and, well, i kinda had to.
> 
> i hope you enjoy! :)

History class was the only real downside of Shiro’s day in high school. He’s not much of a history buff, but through the journey of the Gilded Age and the struggles of the Civil Rights movement, Shiro found the strength to fight his uninterest through Lance McClain.

Being placed next to Lance was one of the first times assigned seats had worked out in his favor. Lance, whose hair manages to fall perfectly no matter which way he tries to arrange it. Lance who has the power to bring him out of a daydream with his voice, no matter what he’s talking about.

Shiro, who has always been one to observe his surroundings, almost always has to convince himself that noticing the little things like that isn’t weird. Probably on a daily basis.

But Lance never cares. He’ll turn, his shining eyes complementing that summer smile that sends a rush to Shiro’s head. He didn’t even have to talk, not that he ever did. In fact, they _barely_ talk. Most of their interactions are ones that Shiro daydreams about while his history teacher serves as background noise. He takes the scarce small talk in class when he can, appreciates every minute of it.

It’s during their third month of school that Shiro considers the possibility of asking Lance to hang out. Or, maybe not yet. A study session is more appropriate, he thinks.

“Shiro?”

His head snaps from where he’s been staring, the shrill ring of the bell flooding his unsuspecting ears after the soft call of his name.

“Yeah?”

“Class is over.” Pidge has been nudging his seat for a few seconds. Shiro knows, judging from the impatience written in the twitch of her frown and the glazed look in her eyes. Hell, it looks like she was just as bored as Shiro was today. That in itself was a rarity.

“Let’s go before my brain actually falls out of my head.”

“Dramatic,” Shiro laughs but still does as he’s been told, collecting his things from his rickety desk before shoving them in his backpack in one go. All while watching Lance place his items in his own bag, each item stacked inside with meticulous detail. His hands moved so quickly his system should be falling out of place, and yet…

“You’re staring again—” Pidge whispers and Shiro jumps in his seat from the sudden proximity. And then, all at once, Shiro’s elbow is ramming itself into the back of his chair, his bag is flying, and Lance is whirling around where he sits to see the disaster play itself out in full.

Pidge has vacated the space before Shiro is present enough to place proper blame on her, but that’s the least of the boy’s problems. At the moment, he’s sharing what he thinks is the most direct eye contact he’s ever had with Lance McClain since they were placed by each other in the class. Lance’s hands clutch his pens with an iron grip as he stares Shiro down, who doesn’t even know what to do. His heart is thrumming so hard he can’t form the words he thinks he wants to say. He’s positive something in his bag hit Lance’s leg or something. _God, what if he hit his leg?_

Shiro would have to move away.

“Are…you okay?”

Lance speaks first, to Shiro’s surprise. He stumbles over what he hopes and prays is a quiet gasp before collecting himself enough to stop slouching in his desk like a damn coward.

“Are _you_ okay?”

A giggle slices through the tension. Shiro’s gaze shifts to the wide smile that’s on Lance’s face.

“You’re the one that fucking fell apart behind me.”

“Oh,” He feels his face growing hot, feels it creeping down to his chest and spreading with no end in sight, “Right. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a mess, you know.”

“I’ve heard you falling asleep behind me,” Lance still smiles, to Shiro’s relief, “So it could have been worse.”

“Right.” God, he’s said ‘right’ too much now. What was that, four times? “H-Here, let me get all this shit.”

“Lemme help.” Lance reaches down, still unmoving from his seat as he helps Shiro collect what could be his entire life. They work together in silence, repacking Shiro’s bag quickly. He can’t help but notice how Lance shoved all of his pens into one section of his bag, rather than letting them be crushed by the textbooks that Shiro would usually pile on top of them.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, “You’re really good at packing bags.”

And just as he says it, he realizes how strange it sounds. Even Pidge is giving him a look, her brows furrowed and screaming _what the actual fuck?_ He stutters to make a recovery, the heat on his face burning even hotter than when he was _in_ the hot seat.

“I—I mean—”

“Thanks,” Lance nods, zipping his bag up before standing up tall. His height almost rivals Shiro, the two of them just looking each other in the eye without one having to tilt his head up. Shiro still has the advantage, but he can’t deny he _likes_ the challenge of Lance’s lanky legs. Likes being able to look at someone one on one, having an equal…

“I just can’t stand when my stuff is in all the wrong places. It’s just a lot less work when I get home.”

“I don’t usually uh, have that problem. I just kind of, put it all together and figure it out later.”

“Kudos to you for having the patience,” Lance offers him a timid smile, “The homework tonight is gonna kill though.”

“T-Tonight?” Shiro’s head tips to the side. He tries to remember but he doesn’t recall a single mention of homework.

_Did he actually fall asleep?_

“The notes and comprehension questions online…?” Lance says it in hopes that he’ll remember but sadly, all Shiro can do is shake his head.

“I kind of suck at this class,” He confesses, “Like, it’s bad. I can’t pay attention for my life. And when I have to go home and read all the words kind of just meld into one giant ball of— _ugh_.”

“Yeah,” Lance smirks, “I feel you. You might need a tutor though if that’s the case. The tests aren’t going to be easy.”

Shiro nods, pursing his lips as he watches Lance sling his bag over his broad shoulders. The conversation is slipping through his fingertips like rain and he doesn’t know what to do to save it. He stands there for what he’s sure is a few seconds before a frantic, sloppy idea lodges itself to the front of his brain.

“A-Are you volunteering?”

Of course he had to stutter. It’s as if he can’t live a peaceful life without stuttering. But it does the job, Lance’s head tipped back to look at Shiro peculiarly.

“Maybe. Do you want me?”

“I—I wouldn’t _mind_ having you.” Shiro downplays, not wanting to come off stronger than he already has. The soft smile makes a reappearance, Lance’s picture perfect hair falling to the side and hiding his eyes.

“I might have some room in my schedule for a few sessions.” He isn’t looking at Shiro, but instead at the adjusting strap of his backpack, “We can talk tomorrow if that works for you?”

“No yeah,” Shiro said, following with a string of quick nods, “that would be great!”

“Great,” Lance waves before he’s tugged gently by his friend Hunk. Shiro’s seen him around Lance a lot more than the average person, and even now his jealousy ate at him. To have the boy’s attention stolen away so swiftly…their moment seemed to be so fragile…

But there’s nothing he can do but appreciate his successes as Lance disappears, his body slipping between the hundreds that now flood their crowded high school hallways. Shiro’s eyes follow helplessly, but his heart bubbles excitedly from the conversation that had just concluded. This was a step forward, a _huge_ step forward.

 

+

 

Shiro waited for Lance to enter the classroom the next day with the jittery anticipation of a child. His leg was bouncing so much Pidge had to reach over and settle it every once in a while, as the constant motion making her _so_ dizzy.

And after all that, Lance never arrived.

Shiro brushed it off, told himself it was just a coincidence that Lance ended up not coming in the day after they had their first real conversation.

He convinced himself for two hours. After a three-hour phone call with Pidge before bed, he’d convinced himself again. Just enough to get to sleep and look forward to the next day, the next opportunity.

Lance was a no show for the second day in a row.

Definitely not normal, Shiro noted. Lance was usually very punctual and _always_ in class. A day is inevitable, sure, but two?

Shiro’s stomach squeezed in on itself when the second bell rang, and his history teacher shut the door and began their lesson on corrupt businesses in the West. Lance never showed. Shiro was sure he would have loved the topic.

When the third, fourth, and fifth days passed, Shiro’s anxiety redirected from his own inward fears, to solely Lance’s well-being. He’s abandoned the concept of paying attention in class, his mind too busy coming up with the worst possible case scenarios that could have possibly transpired. Hunk has missed two of the five days of Lance’s absence, and _oh_ did Shiro notice. Only something _bad_ would have Hunk pulling himself from his classes.

His head flicks over to where Pidge lounges in her desk, flipping through her phone. It’s the beginning of a new week now, and Lance is nowhere in sight.

“Pidge.”

Nothing. Her eyes barely lift from the device. Either she’s _really_ into whatever she’s doing, or she’s _really_ good at ignoring Shiro.

“ _Pidge—_ ”

That did it. She glares with as much venom as she can muster.

“Yes, Shiro?!” She whispers.

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”

“About?”

“Lance.”

Her eyes softened, glancing at the seat that’s been empty for over a week.

“He has been missing for awhile now...”

“I wanna do something, but I don’t even know where I’d start.” Shiro purses his lips as the defeat washes over him in real-time, “We’re not friends. I didn’t even ask for his number when we talked about tutoring—which you know I should have done—”

“Shiro!”

His head snaps up to the board, to where his teacher is glaring at him just as Pidge was not too long ago.

“Quiet, please.”

He visibly shrinks, glancing about the room at the faces that mirror his. A few minutes pass before he caves, pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting Pidge instead of the former.

_I just need to know if he’s okay, you know? I’m losing my mind thinking about the possibilities._

He watches Pidge’s every move. She reads the text, eyebrows raising curiously as she presumably reaches the end. Her fingers are flying in moments.

_I heard Hunk is coming in later to grab some stuff for him. If you really wanna figure out what’s going on you could just ask him instead of letting it eat you alive._

Shiro has to read her text two or three times before he realizes that he’s going to have to use his voice if he wants to figure out Lance’s state. Pidge shrugs from the corner of his eye, turning her attention back to whatever she was doing previous to him pestering her.

He’s at least one step further than he was before. Just like he was one step closer to Lance last week when they had their first full conversation.

  
  


**_three days later_ **

Shiro had been sitting in a hospital chair for twenty minutes before he _finally_ heard his name being called from where Lance was being held.

A _lot_ had happened between realizing he had to talk to Hunk, and ending up at their town’s general hospital. A turn of events that well, to say the least, made Shiro feel a little crazy.

He cornered Hunk after school, asked—no, _begged and pleaded—_ for any information on Lance. Shiro could barely breathe but the words managed to find their way out of his mouth, Hunk’s horror becoming more visible with every minute that passed. It wasn’t until Shiro eventually crumpled to his knees, shaking with embarrassment, that Hunk kneeled down beside him. He felt his hand settle on his shoulder and looked into the eyes of a boy who seemed to understand his distress merely from listening. It’s rare that ever happens in Shiro’s world.

“He’s fine,” Hunk nodded, “Lance wanted me to keep it under wraps—for his nonsense reasons, of course—-but he’s fine.”  
  
“What happened?” 

“His appendix burst.”

_His appendix burst._

And now Shiro stood in front of his door, his outlook quickly changing from prepared to _petrified_. He brought himself here and he has no clue what he’s going to say.

“Shit…” He groans, throwing his head into his hands. In his bag was a bit of homework that Hunk had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to give Lance, giving Shiro the in he needed. So he could just, give him the homework and go from there? But Lance would want to know _why_ , so he should have a plan for that too. He…found it on the teacher’s desk and stole it? Hunk went on vacation in the middle of winter and Shiro was the only one left to succeed his role? Or maybe—

“Shiro?”

His head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Suddenly, he isn’t sure if hearing Lance made him more or less frightened to walk inside. It’s all compiled into one big weight in Shiro’s stomach and he hasn’t the slightest clue what it could be. Had it really been that long since Shiro heard it last?

“Hey,” He takes his first steps into the room, clutching Lance’s books tight to his chest with each once, “it’s been awhile.”

“I know.” Lance is grinning. How is a mystery, but Shiro thrives off of it. “I tell you I’m gonna tutor you and then I leave you hanging dry.”

He laughs then, his eyes skillfully avoiding where Shiro stands near the doorway. The room isn’t that big, and there isn’t much to look at to begin with, but Lance makes it work.

“My bad.”

“Your appendix burst,” Shiro tries, “it’s not like you had any control in the situation. I understand. Plus, there’s still more time for me to get tutored.”

“No, no I know that…” Lance sighs, head tilting back into his pillow, “it just sucks that the second we manage to have a conversation, I end up in the hospital for two weeks.”

Lance’s flat looks turns around in an instant, a smile curling along his lips before finally letting his gaze fall where Shiro waits, eyes split wide open. It’s there where he makes the pleasant, yet still shocking conclusion that Lance may be just as interested.

“You’re…?”

“Homework, Shiro. Lemme have my homework.”

“But you’ve liked me too?” Shiro wills his legs to move closer.

“Maybe,” Lance still smiles, drumming his fingers on his hospital bed, “Sucks that my stupid appendix bursting was what forced me to tell you now.”

“Why wait?” Shiro feels lightheaded, blessed to be in a hospital just in case.

“I wanted to wait for the right moment,” His fingers slow to a trace, “The _cliche_ moment, I guess you could say. But I thought I was gonna die when my appendix burst. They had no idea what was going on and all I felt was _pain_ , that’s all it _was_. Do you know what runs through your head when you think you’re going to die?”

Shiro shakes his head, fighting to keep his mouth from falling open.

“Well it’s a lot of shit, yeah, but all that really stood out were my regrets. You just happened to be one of my biggest ones.”

Shiro’s heart races at the tail end of Lance’s confession, resting his books on the bedside table and choosing to take a seat beside him. He makes a bold move, scooting closer to him than he might have before.

“Regret how?” Shiro says, though he knows what Lance means. He just wants to hear it.

“Regret not making a move, or, I guess waiting for _you_ to budge. Imagine if you hadn’t bumped into me? And I _did_ die?”

“But you _didn’t_ ,” Shiro reminds him, “we’re both still here.”

“Right.”

Lance chews on his bottom lip, twiddles with his fingers in his lap. Nerves. And it’s written all over him.

It isn’t exactly the most fitting look for someone as outspoken and confident as Lance is, but Shiro enjoys it while it lasts. He hates feeling like he’s alone in this, and seeing a little trepidation reassures him quickly. So much in fact, that he can’t help the sudden urge to save Lance from it.

“Then we should go see a movie.” Shiro starts confident but it ends in a ridiculous slew of tangled words. “O-Or we can still do the history tutoring? I kind of _really_ need it but I mean…either one?”

Lance smiles, head tilted ever so slightly as he pats the space beside him, opens the door Shiro thought was going to be closed for the rest of his life.

“Keep me company for now, yeah?”

Shiro doesn’t have to be asked twice.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](https://cabriesun.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/cabriesunz) for more content!


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